Festivals, rituals and healing

In many ways, we are a people of festivals. A festival is described as a “day or period of time set aside to commemorate, ritually celebrate, re-enact, or anticipate events or seasons.” If you shut out the noise of the politicians, weeping talk show hosts and the social media frenzy generated by a dangerous rodeo on the hood of a moving car – if you close your eyes and shut out the absurdity of it all, you will realise that October in TT is a magical time.

The tassa that has been present in all of our lives was the musical accompaniment to the Hosay festival, “a drama of passion, where significant events of Islamic history are narrated and commemorated over ten days.” Nobody complained when the parade of the breathtaking tadjahs, the mosque-like structures, caused long lines of traffic, because it is accepted as part our shared culture and collective identity.

In this month, as we pay homage to calypso, the music that we gave the world, 76-year-old Calypso Rose is releasing a new album.

Meanwhile, in a simple space surrounded by coconut leaves, bamboo and earth, practitioners of the Ifa/Orisha belief system gathered in reverence to Ogun, one of the most powerful in the pantheon of gods in traditional African religion.

Ogun, the God of Iron, warrior — he clears obstacles, opens the way...

In this month too, indigenous peoples from all over the world walked in respectful pilgrimage, bent towards the clear cool river waters and sent up their prayers for peace and harmony. The Orishas would call on Oshun and Yemonja, the Hindus would call it Ganga Dhara or Pilgrimage to the River.

We also had in the Hindu tradition, the dramatic Ramleela, portraying Lord Rama’s restoration of dharma, “the righteous way of life”, and will soon welcome the captivating Festival of Lights, Divali, with all its lessons for spiritual and physical cleansing.

We have “different visions of life,” affirmed Wade Davis, National Geographic explorer. In various ways, we are concerned with what he calls “maintaining the cosmic balance”. In our country, festivals punctuate the mundane existence; they help to maintain that balance and reconnect us with our core.

As with Carnival, every year scores of people commit to making these rituals a success. The cleaning of the various “yards”, cooking the food, hanging the decorations, practising the performance, watching the children, painting, scrubbing, building.

Yet, as we continue to view each festival in its separate historical or ethnic space, some argue and seek to gain political mileage over how much money a particular group got from the Government, or discuss our festivals in the context of some vague notion of “diversification”.

For a society like ours, still struggling to be comfortable with all of its many parts, our rituals provide an opportunity to bring us closer to ourselves and not be so afraid of the differences. Our rituals therefore need to be lifted out of the communities from which they emerge and brought into the mainstream of our reality.

Fortunately, the people remain ahead of so-called decision makers.

When I saw the video of a dreadlocked woman beating tassa in the middle of the fray, I smiled. In that moment I knew that our festivals, properly envisioned, can lift the oppressive clouds and provide the balance and healing that we all seek.

D a r a Healy is a performance artist and founder of the NGO, the Indigenous Creative Arts Network – ICAN